


Third Time's The Charm

by Lu_z



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And So Does The Rest of The MSBY, Confessions, Idiots in Love, M/M, Meian Deserves a Raise, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lu_z/pseuds/Lu_z
Summary: 'Ok Google, how do I make my crush confess to me again if I accidentally rejected them the first time?'------In which confessing proves to be much more complicated than what Atsumu initially imagined.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	Third Time's The Charm

For the umpteenth time in the past half-hour, Atsumu pinched his arm, just to make sure that he was not, in fact, dreaming. And for the umpteenth time, he had to face the truth: the Sakusa Kiyoomi walking beside him was very much real, and so was the busy street around them. Real, too, was the fact that the two of them were now voluntarily standing outside the ramen place Kiyoomi had suggested, waiting for a table to be free. For just the two of them.

Accepting the reality of his situation, however, didn’t mean that Atsumu knew exactly how he’d managed to get himself in it. 

He still had no idea what had possessed him earlier, back in the locker room.

There was no special occasion, practice had been good but not particularly exceptional, and Kiyoomi had not been any cuter than usual. No, really, an ordinary day, and Atsumu had been ready to go home. 

But then he had turned to Kiyoomi, who was putting away his practice clothes in his locker, ‘Finding Nemo’ hairband pushing back his hair, and suddenly the only thing he could say was “So, Omi-kun, is today the day yer finally taking me out for dinner?”

He had meant that as a joke, of course. He was expecting the usual polite but firm refusal, or the roll of the eyes, and he was already turning back toward the door, but apparently Kiyoomi had chosen this day to surprise everyone. 

“Yeah, sure. Anywhere you want to go in particular?” He’d said with a shrug as if it was no big deal and he hadn’t just sent Atsumu’s heart beat faster.

He’d heard the rest of the team snickering around them and laughing as Atsumu had stuttered an answer, not-so-subtle Inunaki nudging Adriah in their direction. 

Completely oblivious to being the centre of attention, or not caring at all, Kiyoomi had continued.

“I know a good place for ramen, if you want. It’s not too far from here and it’s in the direction of your apartment.”

Despite his apparent calm, Atsumu could see his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, nervousness evident in the fidgeting of his fingers.

“Sure, ramen’s fine,” he’d responded in a strangled voice, then, opening the door, “lead the way.”

And so, there he was, waiting for a table to share a one-to-one dinner with one Sakusa Kiyoomi, in his favourite ramen spot in Osaka, on a weekday. The look of it all did not escape him. One might believe they were going on a date. And the truth was, Atsumu was also starting to believe that, after catching one-too-many side glances Kiyoomi threw at him. 

“Miya?”

Atsumu raised his head, smiling sheepishly after realising he had been spacing out for the last minutes.

“Sorry there, Omi-kun, didn’t catch that last sentence. What were ya sayin’?”

“I was asking if you felt fine. You look exhausted. You know, we don’t have to go tonight, right? If you’re not feeling well—“

“Don’t worry yerself over me, Omi,” he interrupted before the other could finish, “’m good, just a bit tired. I’m starvin’ though, think we’ll enter any time soon or?”

Kiyoomi turned his head back to the restaurant door and peeked inside. “I think someone is leaving soon, I can see them paying.”

For the first time of the evening, Atsumu had a clear look at his Kiyoomi’s profile. Although his expression was safely dissimulated behind his mask, Atsumu could see that is face seemed relaxed, the scowl he usually sported when going out in public nowhere to be seen. He was looking all around them, looking a bit restless, but he at least seemed pleased to be there.

Which was a relief, because, on his part, Atsumu was really glad he’d obtained a dinner with Kiyoomi, even if he had just accidentally scored this outing. Even as his participation in team-building event was increasing since he joined the team, Kiyoomi was not usually the one proposing or agreeing to a spontaneous outing. But he had today, and he had offered—at least, partially, —to Atsumu of all people. 

They hadn’t been the bestest of friends in the beginning, cordial at most. But gradually, a sort of spirit of competition had gotten them closer, and a few months after his recruitment in the MSBY, Atsumu could safely consider Kiyoomi one of his closest friends on the team. 

Or at least that was before. Before Atsumu began noticing the way Kiyoomi was looking at him, from the discreet glances during TVs interviews to the pointed stares during photoshoots or night outs; he had seen how the other would try to stay close to him during practice, and especially when needing to find a stretching partner. 

He had first been intrigued. He was familiar with the look of want and interest, he had already seen in other people’s eyes, but never expected to find it in Kiyoomi’s. 

And it had continued. Then, he had noted how Kiyoomi’s looks had progressively changed; how, when his cheeks were coloured in red, he always tried to avoid Atsumu's gaze, or how he looked at him intense but true interest, even when he was telling some stupid stories. Kiyoomi had kept looking at him, watching him.

Until one day, Atsumu found himself looking, too. 

It had begun with small, insignificant details of Kiyoomi’s personality and appearance. There was the satisfied huff Kiyoomi would let out after a nasty spike, or the perseverance in his eyes when he missed. There was the way he would always eagerly nod at whatever coach Foster was saying to everyone during one of his speech or the way he would always bring Atsumu his flask when fetching his on the bench. And the way his eyes would almost close whenever he decided to grant the world one of his rare smiles.

And it would make Atsumu feel things. Weird things. The desire to get his hands on Kiyoomi, for example, whether to shake him and tell him to stop being cute or to hold him close still left unclear. The need to take his hands between his, too, and run laps around the gymnasium immediately after. Or the urge to squish Kiyoomi’s cheeks together and yell incoherent, romantic words at his face.

So yes, Atsumu was very much interested in Kiyoomi, and it seemed the reverse was also true. He had no problem in recognizing this, in fact, he had accepted this newfound interest rather quickly. No, the problem lay elsewhere and was very simple: Atsumu didn’t do romance.

Not in the dramatic sense of him not wanting any string, no, it’s just that Atsumu didn’t do romance simply because he had absolutely no idea how it was supposed to work, and it terrified him. Finding people hot? Easy. Flirting with friends and strangers alike? Sure. Having a crush? Not as common as the first two, but he managed. It was everything beyond that that threw Atsumu in uncharted waters. Dating was a concept Atsumu was totally unfamiliar with. Hell, he couldn’t even imagine himself confessing, and it was only the first step to dating.

So Atsumu found himself stuck in this awkward in-between, not really just friends but not much more either.

And it seemed Kiyoomi would not be the one to save them from this weird place. Apparently, he had no problem in engaging physically with people, if his body-count after his uni years was any indication, but not emotionally, never emotionally.

They had been toeing this blurred line between friends and more for some time already, and Atsumu had found a certain stability in it. Of course, he sometimes dreamt of more, of what could be, but come morning, he would always leave these thoughts in the secrecy of his bedroom. He found it much easier to imagine this relationship, a bit like a watching a movie, than actually have to act in it. He continued like that, then, balancing this with his real-life not-just-a-friendship. He still loved spending time with Kiyoomi, enjoying his presence when going out with the team or when shopping for new shorts, just the two of them.

It was, however, the first time they would be eating out together, just the two of them. 

“Thank you so much for your patience, your table is ready now!”

The waitress’ voice jolted Atsumu from his thoughts, and he felt embarrassed as he realised, he had spaced out again.

She took them to a little table in one of the restaurant’s corner, away from the rest of the customers, and Atsumu wondered if she had recognised Kiyoomi and arranged the table on purpose. After all, Kiyoomi did say he came here regularly. 

He felt himself relaxing slowly, the background music and the warmth inside enveloping like a recomforting blanket. The smell was nice, and suddenly all Atsumu could think of was eating a nice dinner and enjoy his night. He smiled at Kiyoomi, who smiled back before diving into the menu. The restaurant felt like some kind of small, out-of-time world, far from the cold of February, and Atsumu let himself sink in the sensation, the smile on Kiyoomi’s face across the table mirroring his own.

Once their food served, they easily fell back into their usual friendly banters and excited conversations, the last shred of nervousness fading away, replaced by Kiyoomi’s small snorts and Atsumu’s snickers, as simple as that. Atsumu fixed his gaze to Kiyoomi’s eyes, and kept it there the whole dinner, occasionally distracting himself to pick at his plate;

Kiyoomi got up to pay, insisting even when Atsumu physically tried to block him, and with a final nod towards the waitress, they stepped out, back into the real world.

This part of Hirakata by night was pretty calm, streets leading to their apartments almost empty, the few people on their way home the only exception. Kiyoomi was walking beside him, still chatting about the show he was currently hooked on, his mask nowhere in sight as was usual when the streets were not too crowded anymore.

From the corner of his eye, Atsumu studied him. Kiyoomi wasn’t slouching anymore at all, but he seemed more guarded than when they were in eating, and he wouldn’t stop blinking quickly, something he did a lot when nervous, Atsumu had observed.

Atsumu suddenly felt bad. He had asked him to go out as a joke but then hadn’t stopped him when he had agreed. Atsumu hadn’t really considered the fact that maybe Kiyoomi didn’t want to go to a restaurant that night and had accepted so as not to hurt his feelings. Maybe Kiyoomi had just wanted to go back to his apartment and lounge leisurely on his sofa while watching the show he was talking about.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice that Kiyoomi had stopped walking. He raised his head questioningly, before recognising the intersection they normally parted way to their respective apartments.

Kiyoomi was fidgeting, shifting his weight on his feet. His hands were still buried in his pockets, and his gaze couldn’t seem to meet Atsumu’s. He cleared his throat. 

“So. We’re here.”

Eloquent as ever, Atsumu blurted out a too-loud “Yup.” 

Kiyoomi didn’t respond, he kept on looking at him. Then he took a step closer. And another. 

He was now standing very close to Atsumu, their feet almost touching. He was biting the inside of his cheeks, a hand absentmindedly replacing a strand of hair behind his ear. With the lamppost’s light behind him, his curls seemed like they were forming a halo, framing his face impeccably.

He was really cute, beautiful even. But he also seemed very hesitant, Atsumu noted. And Kiyoomi was a lot of things, but hesitant was definitely not one of them; he always did the things he set out to do with a determination Atsumu had always admired. Seeing him like that set Atsumu off, and his previous thoughts resurfaced. What if Kiyoomi felt obligated of being here? 

Atsumu was, in general, quite in control of his life, moving through plenty of diverse situations with an ease he had refined along the years, attitude confident and resolute as much as possible. This kind of situation, however, was definitely not one of them and he was totally in the dark about what he was supposed to do. A small part of Atsumu knew that whatever he was thinking now was the product of a tiring day and baseless reasoning. He knew that but couldn’t stop his overthinking brain once started, and the feeling of not knowing what to do was absolutely petrifying.

His usual tenacity had disappeared, leaving room only for his growing sense of panic and need to escape this situation. Before he could stop himself, Atsumu raised his hands.

“Well, Omi-kun, that was nice,” he said, immediately destroying whatever atmosphere had formed around them. 

They both looked at the hand Atsumu had just placed on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, Atsumu with shock, Kiyoomi with confusion.

Atsumu cleared his throat.

“Thanks. For the restaurant and the evening. I’ll uh, I’ll see you at practice, yeah?” He said in one go. “G’night, I guess?!”

And then he all but patted Kiyoomi’s shoulder.

Kiyoomi froze, still looking at where Atsumu was touching him.

Quickly withdrawing his hand, Atsumu turned around, leaving a baffled Kiyoomi behind, and scurried away without looking back, shame and regret already clawing up his throat.

*

“Ya’ve done WHAT???” Osamu’s screams through the phone, making him wince.

As soon as he’d reached his apartment, Atsumu had collapsed face first in his bed, mourning his last chance with Kiyoomi, last chance he had actively helped to destroy. Then, obviously, he had called Osamu to cry about it again.

“I fucked up. I fucked up big time that’s what I did.”

Osamu sighed. “Stop bein’ a fuckin’ drama queen for one second in yer life and explain yerself.”

Atsumu whined again, rubbing his face on the mattress. “We went to some restaurant Omi-kun likes, it was nice, then it wasn’t nice anymore and then I ran away.”

He can’t see him, but he knew his brother was throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

“See, that’s the part I don’t quite get. Ya invited him, he said yes, and it was nice. Where’s the problem? You’ve been dreamin’ about the guy for some time already, what happened?” Osamu’s tone suddenly became more serious. “Did he do somethin’ wrong? Did he make ya uncomfortable or somethin’?”

“No really, he was really nice, actually. No, no! It’s just… when we got to where we normally leave off…” 

Now that he had to say it out loud, Atsumu felt even more stupid.

“I think Omi tried to kiss me.”

“How bad of a kisser he is if ya ‘think’ he kissed you,” Osamu sneered.

“He didn’t get to. Kiss me I mean.”

There was a short silence, then “well what the hell did ya do?” 

“I kinda panicked, so I stopped him before he could get closer, and then I ran away. That simple.”

“What? Did ya say somethin’ at least?”

“Yeah, somethin’ along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow thanks for tonight’. And I gave him a fuckin' pat on the back." He distinctively heard the smack Osamu’s hand made when he facepalmed his face. “Exactly.”

“What the hell, ‘Tsumu?”

Atsumu flopped on his back, dejected. “I dunno. It was nice and all but then I just…panicked. Ya know I have no idea how to do this shit, ‘Samu.”

“Yeah, I know.” There was another sigh in his ear, then Osamu added, “It sounds overly complicated for somethin’ so very simple.”

“Well now that I’m lyin’ in bed and sayin’ it out loud, yeah, of course, I realise that. It’s just, on the moment, I hesitated ya know. Maybe he felt obligated to be here.” Maybe he wasn’t interested like that, he didn’t add, counting on his brother to catch the meaning anyway. 

There was a moment of silence before Osamu continued. 

“‘m pretty sure Sakusa-san wouldn’t have come if he didn’t want to, you do realise that? I mean, the guy clearly saw it as a date. And he did try to kiss ya.” Atsumu groaned in affirmation, covering his face with one arm, feeling embarrassed just remembering Kiyoomi’s face close to his. “And I dunno but think of your interactions the last month, there’s clearly somethin’ there. And I saw the disgustin’ looks he kept throwing at ya in yer last match. Kinda telling too, if ya ask me.”

“Ah!” Atsumu said triumphally, sitting up on his bed, “I knew I hadn’t imagined that! Sho-kun was making fun of me when I told him Omi-kun kept looking at me.”

Atsumu smiled. He already knew all of that of course, but hearing Osamu saying it reassured him, in a way. His brother was competitive and stubborn, among many other things, but he was not a liar, and he wouldn’t press him into a dead-end situation like that. He knew when to push him and when Atsumu needed encouragement.

He heard Osamu snorting.

“Ya two are some special kind of oblivious idiots. Fuck ‘Tsumu, imagine poor Sakusa-san.” Atsumu immediately felt bad, hiding his face in his head, even if there was no one to hide it from. “Ya ask him on a date after months of mutual flirting and when he tries to kiss ya, all ya say is ‘see ya tomorrow bye’. That’s some romantic move here.”

Atsumu whined, having no explanation to offer.

“Ya better talk to him tomorrow, poor guy is probably wonderin’ what he did wrong.”

Poor Kiyoomi indeed. Atsumu decided he would send him a good night text, at least. Then talk to him first thing in the morning tomorrow.

They talked a bit more after that, about Osamu’s new restaurant that was doing great in Kobe, about their mother who suddenly had the urge to see them both.

When they were about to hang up, Osamu’s voice rose one more time.

“By the way, ‘Tsumu. Ya don’t hafta figure it all out right from the beginnin’, ya know. Not everything comes in the perfect textbook, and it's ok to try, sometimes. So, trust yerself a bit, yeah?”

And with that he hung up, not letting Atsumu respond anything. Talk about a theatrical way to end a phone call. But again, he was right, and Atsumu thought that maybe he could let himself learn with Kiyoomi. 

*

When Atsumu entered the locker room, he was greeted with a round of smug grins and wiggles of eyebrows. His teammates were looking expectantly at him, Hinata and Inunaki were snickering somewhere near the bathroom.

“Hello, Atsumu.” He turned toward Meian. “Somethin’ to share with the class, maybe?” He added with a wink, a large but genuine smile on his lips.

Atsumu’s mouth opened, but his retort died on his tongue as the door of the room opened, letting a dishevelled Kiyoomi enter.

For a short instant, their eyes locked, before they both quickly glanced away. Fine, maybe he was being a bit of a coward and it was stupid, but he felt quite embarrassed, even more with last night’s revelation.

He decided to ignore the collective groan that escaped the lips of the rest of the MSBY team. Somewhere on his right, he heard a loud bang that sounded suspiciously like Hinata banging his head against his locker.

He changed into his practice clothes and busied himself with reorganising his locker, letting his other teammates leave until he and Kiyoomi were the only ones remaining.

Atsumu took a big inspiration and tried to shake away the stress. He bravely fixed a smile on his face and walked to Kiyoomi.

“Hello Omi-kun,” he said, trying to appear nonchalant as he leaned against the locker next to him. And then, with all the talent of a tactless jerk, he added,” don’t ya have something to say to me?”

At this, Kiyoomi winced, his shoulders visibly tensing up. 

“Um, yeah, right, uh,” he fumbled through his word. After clearing his throat, keeping his gaze stubbornly on the floor, Kiyoomi added, “I’m sorry.”

About to answer, Atsumu finally registered the words. What?

“What? What are ya sorry for?”

Kiyoomi’s hands began fidgeting. “Please excuse my attitude yesterday.” He bowed slightly in his direction, keeping his head low, eyes not leaving the floor, “I clearly overstepped your limits, and it was inappropriate from me. I’ll be more attentive of them in the future.” 

He said it all in one breath and so quickly that the time Atsumu took to fully comprehend his words, Kiyoomi had already exited the room. This went wrong. So, so wrong. Not only Kiyoomi had no idea that Atsumu was actually interested in him, but worse, he thought he’d made Atsumu uncomfortable.

And Atsumu felt even more like an idiot. He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. He definitely had to talk to Kiyoomi after practice.

Practice went smoothly, coach Foster seemed in a good mood and was particularly lenient today. Atsumu immersed himself entirely in the game, revelling in the way Inunaki was throwing a murderous glance at him during serve practice. He felt his stress and uncertainties slowly slip away with each receive, each set, each point. Whenever he was feeling down, unsure, or was doubting himself, a gymnasium, a net, and a ball had always been a good way to put him back on his feet.

From time to time, during rotations and breaks, Atsumu couldn’t help but look at Kiyoomi’s direction. He didn’t let that alter his concentration, but he noticed that Kiyoomi was, most of the time, looking back, almost as discreet as Atsumu was.

Kiyoomi had responded at his good night text only in the morning, a concise answer, nothing exceptional, just a basic Kiyoomi-like answer. But after their exchange in the locker room, Atsumu couldn’t help but wonder if Kiyoomi was actually angry at him, or maybe hurt.

He tried to approach him again at the end of the day. The rest of the team was leaving, and Kiyoomi was about to follow them when Atsumu called after him. He looked longingly at the door but turned briefly toward Atsumu.

“Sorry can’t talk, I uh, I have a train to catch.” He turned back to the door.

“What for? You’re walking to practise.”

Kiyoomi’s seemed about to explode. “I uh, I have …a date?” His answer, that sounded almost like a question, resonated in the room, and as soon as the words left his mouth, Kiyoomi seemed genuinely horrified. He let out a small, agonising noise while passing his hands on his face.

“Fuck. Forget I said that, please,” he added quickly, “in fact, just forget I exist. Bye”

He moved to go away again when Atsumu’s words stopped him.

“Wait!! Wait, Omi. I need to tell ya somethin’!” Kiyoomi turned a bit on himself, throwing him a side glance.

Just as Atsumu opened his mouth to continue, they heard the door open and the cleaning guy entered, nodding his head in their direction.

It was sufficient to cause a distraction, and by the time Atsumu realised it, Kiyoomi had already exited the room.

*

Osamu’s face was staring blankly back at him through the screen.

“I can’t believe that ya both succeeded twice in screwing up a fuckin’ confession. Seriously, congratulations.”

“Hey I tried ok? He wouldn’t listen.”

“Yeah, because yer approach was certainly very smooth. At least ya make a good pair, I guess.”

“If we ever manage to actually get to it.” 

“Oi, ya hafta to talk to him tomorrow. Don’t let this drag on too long, ok? The faster ya sort yer shit out the better, for ya both and for me.”

Atsumu sighed, throwing his head back. He would have to convince Kiyoomi to listen to him tomorrow. Easier said than done.

*

All his resolution from the night before was slowly seeping away as the day advanced little by little and Kiyoomi seemed to slip further and further away from him.

While the day before, Kiyoomi had at least been throwing him sideways glances, today he was extremely careful to not even breath in his direction and was trying to avoid him as much as possible.

First, he’d arrived late in a way serious, assiduous Kiyoomi never had before. Then, upon entering the gymnasium, he had all but fled in the opposite corner to warm up, sticking to Barnes’ side for the rest of the whole day. 

Renewed hope came during one of their water breaks. He’d gone to refill his bottle and he was about to enter the gymnasium when he heard Hinata and Kiyoomi discussing on the other side of the door. 

“Maybe it’s not that much of a problem?” Hinata sounded encouraging.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Kiyoomi was lamenting.

“I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything!”

As Kiyoomi added, “Maybe I should just change team. Or country,” in a whine, it became clear he wasn’t listening to anything Hinata was saying.

“Do you really want that, though, Omi-san?” 

Atsumu waited for Kiyoomi’s answer.

Suddenly, there was a voice on his right, very close.

“Did you bang your head so hard you forgot how to use a doorknob, Atsumu?” Inunaki teased him.

Atsumu yelped and, having no choice, he followed Inunaki inside. Hinata was squatting besides Kiyoomi, who had flopped to the ground and had his face stubbornly turned away from Atsumu.

He sighed, feeling defeated again. Not for the first time, he wondered if Kiyoomi had been serious about his date yesterday and Atsumu had just completely imagined the mutual attraction.

And when Atsumu had rushed through his shower to be able to catch Kiyoomi after his, it was only to learn that he had already left. 

So, there he was, changing into new clothes while moping about his too-soon gone love, when Bokuto snapped his fingers right under his nose.

He jumped, almost falling backwards over the bench.

“What the hell, Bokkun, ya tryin' to kill me or what?”

“Do you want to come with us to eat something? The team’s going out, we’ve been asking you for the past five minutes.”

What do people do to heal from a heartbreak? Eating out with your friends was one of the options that appeared among the many other ‘rebounds’ and ‘drinks’ alternatives in the WikiHow suggestions he had before his eyes. Could he even call it a heartbreak, if he had imagined all of it and hadn’t even been officially rejected? 

The perspective of going back to his apartment didn’t seem really appealing for the moment, nor explaining to his brother how much of a disaster he was.

Most of the team was still in the locker, almost ready to go. In one corner, Inunaki and Meian were having a particularly intense game of rock-paper-scissors.

Maybe going out with the team would lift his spirits up, he decided.

“If yer taking us to yer suspicious seafood restaurant and I’m sick again, yer going to pay for the physical and emotional damages this time I warn ya,” he said, picking his bag from the floor.

“Ah, Tsum-Tsum, I love your enthusiasm, always a ray of sunshine,” Bokuto said with a wink. Sarcastic little shit.

A cry of joy erupted behind them and, turning around, he found Meian whooping while Adriah was sympathetically patting Inunaki’s shoulder.

“Guys!” Meian called with a big smile even their crushing victory against the Adlers last month hadn’t elicited, “your generous libero’s invitin’ us all for dinner!”

Looking at his teammate’s cranky face, Atsumu found that ‘generous’ was maybe an overstatement, but who was he to refuse free food?

They finally agreed on going to the small, traditional restaurant where they had celebrated Meian’s birthday. They slid into a small booth, almost sitting in each other’s laps; this part of going out with a herd of tall, bulky guys always proved to be quite difficult.

While they were settling down, he felt Bokuto’s eyes burn a hole in the side of his face. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he muttered, taking a sip from the glass the waiter had brought.

“What’s happening Tsum-Tsum? Yesterday morning you were all cute and now you can’t seem to stop brooding.”

He shrugged. What did they expect? For him to celebrate his broken heart? He was conscious that he was maybe a bit overreacting, but still. Let a guy mope in peace. 

“Does it have something to do with Omi-san?” Hinata asked hesitantly.

Atsumu raised his eyebrow.

“How… how could ya know?”

“Well, he did seem a bit weird at practice today, and he had the same constipated face as you had this morning.”

Atsumu muttered a half-hearted complaint about the gratuitous disrespect of his natural good looks, but he let Hinata continue.

“What happened? Did you guys fight or something?”

He was about to respond but froze at Hinata’s next word.

“You know, it happens. Couples argue about everything and anything, but it doesn’t mean it’s the end of it, right?”

When had Hinata transformed into a couple therapist? Atsumu put aside this question for later, concentrating on the main problem at hand.

“Sho-kun, I think yer making a mistake. Omi-kun and I aren’t in a relationship.” Half of the heads around the table snapped toward him at this statement, but he continued. “That’s the problem here.”

His teammates were looking at him with wide eyes, confusion written all over their faces. Fortunately for him, the arrival of the waiter to take their orders took most of their attention away.

“But…” Bokuto’s gaze was jumping from him to Hinata, then back to him. “I don’t understand… Didn’t you…? Wednesday? You went out together?”

“Yeah, Bokkun, and that’s where my problems began.” Atsumu slumped on his chair. “I dunno, I thought there was something there, but then after today I’m not so sure anymore?”

“Well, what happened?”

He looked up to see his two teammates looking intensely at him. He cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t really the type to let everything out, as close as he was with his teammates, there were some things he just refused to say out loud. It was in these moments that having a twin who knew him inside out was a perk; he would just call Osamu and let his brother comfort him. In his own, not-so-delicate way, but still. On the other hand, Atsumu was tired, and he needed someone to complain to about the series of failure that was his for the moment non-existent love life. After all, he had come here to mope, and mope he would.

“We went out. He might have tried to make a move on me and we kinda got confused and I might have rejected him. By accident. But then I tried to make it right yesterday, I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. And then today he just ignored me,” he sighed, keeping silent about the conversation he overheard between Kiyoomi and Hinata, “I mean, it’s ok, I got the message just fine. But he could be nicer about it."

“About what?” Bokuto seemed lost. “Nicer about what, Tsum-Tsum?”

“Well, what do ya think. Rejectin’ me,” he said crossing his arms on his chest and slumping even lower.

Bokuto let out a long, tired sigh, while Hinata pinched his nose.

“Atsumu-san… what did you do, on Wednesday?”

“Hey stop accusin’ me like ‘m the one who ruined everything!”

Hinata threw him a fond but exasperated look.

“I was asking what you did both of you. Where did you go?”

“To Omi-kun’s ramen place.”

“And? He liked it?”

“Well yeah, of course, it’s his favourite place in Osaka. I think he goes there much more than we think, actually, he’s very friendly with the staff.” He smiled, remembering how Kiyoomi was speaking with the waitress. “When he went to pay our bill, the waitress was askin’ him how his spikes had improved and shit.”

Bokuto let his head fall to the table, making a loud bang, while he groaned. “Tsum-Tsum, Omi-kun paid for the both of you?”

“Uh yeah?” Atsumu squirmed on his chair, feeling the incredulous look of the rest of the table. 

“Oh my god,” he heard Barnes whisper.

Then Meian threw his hands in the air, “then what the hell are ya still doin’ here?” he asked, almost desperate.

“Are ya chasin’ me away?” He responded, vexed.

“Tsum-Tsum.” Bokuto’s serious tone brought his head back to face his. “Let me rephrase that. Your problem here is that you think Omi-san doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, right?” Atsumu nodded, suddenly feeling unsure at the determination in his teammate’s eyes. 

Hinata groaned. “Atsumu-san, you do know what date it was, Wednesday, right?”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He didn’t pay much attention to the exact day unless he had an appointment or something important. Following the weekdays seemed to function pretty well in general.

“It was Valentine’s day, ya big idiot,” Meian shouted, hands now in his hair. “So whatever Sakusa-san tried to do, it was clearly with that in mind. Hell, he took ya on a date and paid for it, what more proof do ya need?”

It was Valentine’s day? Well, that explains all the little hearts and cute shit hanging around in the restaurant. Atsumu’s brain stopped working. Wait a minute, what? Did he really ask his crush to a semi-joke date on Valentine’s day?? Real smooth, Atsumu, real smooth.

Why no one had told him anything? Osamu hadn’t even made a joke about that, the useless brother.

Atsumu could feel himself blushing hard. And then he realised: but Kiyoomi said yes? Kiyoomi certainly knew it was Valentine’s day, and he said yes?

Atsumu raised his head, eyes wide.

“But then… It means…” he tentatively said. Hinata was nodding fervently, and Bokuto looked at him with a wide grin.

The waiter’s voice interrupted whatever Barnes was going to say.

“And for you, sir, what would you like to drink?”

Before Atsumu could respond, Inunaki jumped in. “Nothing, this idiot is getting absolutely nothing, except his ass kicked if he doesn’t run now to Sakusa-san apartment.” Inunaki’s glare was determined and promised problems if Atsumu wasn’t moving now. Their libero really was terrifying.

Atsumu felt a rushed of warmth, fondness, and appreciation for his teammates. This was exactly why he had said yes to accompany them; it was exactly what he needed. Among the joking and teasing, they had given the reassurance he needed fo what he was going to do. He smiled at his friends.

With a few stammered goodbyes, Atsumu rose to his feet, snatched his bag from under the table, and rushed to the door. He looked at his watch; he should still have time before Kiyoomi’s usual evening bath.

He ran.

He only realised he had absolutely no idea of what to do now that he was standing in front of Kiyoomi’s building. He had totally forgotten that Kiyoomi lived in a very secured complex, and standing in the hall, he realised he would have to ask the guard to ring Kiyoomi so he could enter. He couldn’t even do some kind of romantic entry, barging in his apartment and proclaiming his love. What was he supposed to do, gently knock and calmly explain himself?

What if Kiyoomi said no? What if he was not home?

The guard’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “You can go, he’s waiting for you.”

Atsumu never imagined an escalator ride could be that stressful, but after almost two heart attacks he finally reached Kiyoomi’s floor, getting out right in front of his door. Which was opened.

Kiyoomi was looking at him with a puzzled look, his hair was pushed up his head by a small headband. He was wearing a onesie covered in drawings of cats and mouses and at his feet were two slippers in the form of a bunny’s head. He looked absolutely ridiculous. And adorable.

Atsumu’s heart swole up, most of his tension dissipating, Kiyoomi’s outfit maybe helping a bit.

“I think we should talk?” Atsumu said with a nervous laugh, more a question than anything.

Seeing the way he grimaced, Kiyoomi seemed to think the contrary, but he turned back inside his apartment, leaving the door open.

Atsumu slipped inside, toeing off his shoes and putting on a pair of guest slippers Kiyoomi threw at his feet wordlessly. He silently followed him in the kitchen, where Kiyoomi made them some tea.

They were standing opposite to each other, Atsumu leaning against the table, Kiyoomi against the counter. He looked at him expectantly over his cup.  
Atsumu took a big inspiration, letting the warmth soothing him through the cup.

“I think I owe ya some explanation. And apologies. Ya know, for …” he vaguely gestured between the two of them, hoping Kiyoomi would understand. Which seemed to work, as Kiyoomi slowly nodded. “So there ya go. I’m sorry. I do that sometimes.” Overthinking and running away. ‘You’ll have to get used to it’ was left unsaid.

Kiyoomi didn’t seem to mind, he snorted softly, blowing on his tea. “It’s ok, I didn’t do a really good job myself. Just to be clear, I uh, I obviously didn't have a date yesterday. I’m sorry, about that, I kind of panicked. ” His gaze slid to Atsumu’s face. “But I’m ready to listen to you now? If you’re still up to talk.” 

Atsumu straightened up, trying to find the good words to convey his emotions.

“I uh, I might be interested. In kissin’ ya. In a, uh, a date-sense, kind of?” He blurted out, very romantically. He was determined to get his feelings across, but he never said he would do it with tact and delicacy.

Kiyoomi’s stare didn’t waver.

Seeing no reaction, Atsumu continued. “And more too. Yeah, definitely more. Doin’ things with ya, holdin’ hands maybe. Like eatin’ together too, restaurant or not. We wouldn’t hafta to go to the restaurant every day ya know, whatever floats your boat I guess.” 

He wasn’t really sure where he was going at this point, Kiyoomi hadn’t moved and the silence enveloping them was only pushing him to ramble more.

“We can also just stay at home. Well, yours, or mine, if Osamu’s not here. I don’t mind any, carte blanche fer you here.” The flow of incoherent propositions coming out of his mouth didn’t seem like it was any close to stopping. “At some point, I guess we’ll—"

“Miya,” Kiyoomi interrupted, lifting his hands as if to physically stop him from uttering another flustered thought, “Atsumu.” Now, he was blushing a bit too, unable to meet Atsumu’s eyes anymore. “I get the idea, no need for the monologue,” he said with an embarrassed voice. 

Atsumu took a deep breath, trying to swallow without choking on his dry throat. He rubbed the back of his neck.  
“So yeah, it might come a bit late, but I really want that. If ya still want me, I’m here.”

His eyes, which had strayed to the side, trailed back hesitantly to Kiyoomi’s face, where a small smile had bloomed. Atsumu took a step in his direction, then a second when Kiyoomi made no move to get away. Taking his hands in his, thumbs drawing circles on his palms, he smiled up at him. If possible, the red on Kiyoomi’s cheeks deepened.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I accept your confession, Omi.” Atsumu said in a breath.

At these words, Kiyoomi, who had been smiling just a moment ago, furrowed his brows.

“What?”

Atsumu raised his head a bit, confused. 

“I— what ‘what’?” 

Kiyoomi shook his head, but he kept Atsumu’s hands in his, which at least seemed like a good sign.

“You’re the one who should confess and ask me to be your boyfriend,” he said with certainty.

It was Atsumu’s turn to furrow his brows, letting out an offended squawk.

“Excuse me?!” Atsumu couldn’t believe it. “Absolutely not. Nuh-uh, no chance.”

Kiyoomi’s right eyebrow went up, unimpressed look on his face.

“Wow, thanks. Is that so much of a problem to ask me out?”

“No Omi, no of course not. But I can’t be the one to ask you out if ya were the one who confessed first?”

“When did you hear me confess first?”

“I mean, ya tried to kiss me back there, after the date. It kinda counts.”

Kiyoomi squinted at him.

“But you invited me on a date.”

“I meant it as a joke!" Upon seeing Kiyoomi's eyebrows doing some complicated acrobacy, he quickly added, "Well not really, but I was sure you would say no!”

Kiyoomi stared at him, he seemed ready to continue whatever they had started, before finally letting out a long sigh.

“You are such a child, Miya Atsumu.”

Then, he placed his two hands on each side of Atsumu’s face, eyes riveted to his.

“Atsumu, I like you. In case it wasn’t clear. Let’s be boyfriends.”

Eyes still on Kiyoomi, Atsumu moved his hands to hold Kiyoomi’s wrists. He let out a small laugh.

“I like ya too.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes moved to his lips, then back to his eyes.

“Can I—?” He whispered.

Atsumu nodded, and before he knew it, he had a pair of lips touching his. The kiss was slow and warm, and he could feel Kiyoomi’s breath fanning his cheek.

He moved his arms around his boyfriend’s neck to bring him closer. It felt completely new, touching Kiyoomi like this, his soft mouth caressing his, fingers slipping through his hair. New too was the rapid beating of his heart and the urge to laugh and smile at Kiyoomi, and then kiss him some more. 

But it also felt natural, like Atsumu was finally right where he was supposed to be.

Letting himself fall into their kiss, Atsumu realised how useless their many complications had been, for he found kissing Kiyoomi the easiest thing to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thanks for reading this far, this is the second fic I publish here (and write for Sakuatsu, for that matter).
> 
> Let's give credits where it is due, I initially began writing this inspired by the prompt 'Confessions' of the Day 5 of the Skts FluffWeek but because I ended up clowning them more than giving them some fluff-whoops- I'll just leave that here haha 
> 
> I hope you still had some fun reading this, stay safe out there and have a nice morning/ day/ evening!
> 
> Edit: well apparently it counts as fluff? So enjoy!!


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